Destiel Fanfic: Appearances Can Be Deceiving Ch 14
TITLE - Appearances Can Be Deceiving
Author - angelina1210 & riotousricochet
RATING - NC-17
GENRE/PAIRING - M/M Castiel/Dean Winchester
SPOILERS - None
WARNINGS - Past Domestic Abuse, threat of noncon
WORD COUNT - 3200 WIP
SUMMARY - After a great night with Cas, Dean's ex drops in.
The sun had gone down long before Cas pulled up to the Winchester Customs Shop, the wintery December evening cloaking the mostly deserted parking lot in a freezing darkness. A week and a half had passed since Thanksgiving and even though Cas' newfound knowledge about Luc still lingered restlessly at the back of his mind, he firmly decided that it was best not to think about it. If he kept his distance from his father and Luc both, a talent he had honed quite well, it would hopefully be an issue he'd never have to face.
Grabbing fast food on his way over, he pulled his car to a stop in the space beside Dean's Impala and glanced up to the large bay doors at the front of the shop, now closed for the night, seeing bright fluorescent light spilling through the high-set glass windows. The chill from the cold night air began to seep into the car after he shut off the engine. He quickly snatched up the bag of burgers from his passenger seat and slipped out the driver's side door.
After Dean told him he had to work late and would miss their now nightly dinner routine, bringing a late meal down to the shop started out as an innocent endeavor. Cas only wanting to surprise him with a warm meal and picking up a few burgers from the closest fast food joint wasn’t much of a hassle at all. He was full of an almost childlike excitement as he stepped up to the large, dark building before him, quietly opening the side door on the shop, and slipping in as stealthily as he could. A heated blast of air from the auto garage's space heaters instantly warmed him as he crossed the threshold.
Dean was in the middle of the deserted mechanics floor, wrench in hand, staring under the hood of a dark blue muscle car. Seeing him bent over the dismantled engine in the harsh light of the fluorescents, grease smudges coating his forearms, dark patches of perspiration dampening his t-shirt at his underarms and lower back, immediately shorted out Cas' brain like an overloaded outlet blowing a fuse. Whatever innocent intent Cas might have had on his drive over was completely and irrefutably dissolved.
He cleared his throat from where he stood just inside the door, his mouth suddenly very dry, and watched as Dean jumped and straightened away from the car before him, nearly hitting his head on the open hood. His verdant green eyes, wide at first, locked on Cas and he smiled warmly, recognition dawning across his face like the sun over the horizon when he saw the bags of fast food in Cas’ loose grip.
Dean stepped back from the car and quickly reached for a rag. The muscles of his biceps, gleaming with sweat and engine oil, bunched under the tight material of his t-shirt’s sleeves as he wiped his hands and Cas suddenly found there was far too much space between them.
Before his brain had even processed that his feet were moving, he numbly set the food down on the nearest flat surface and stepped long, determined strides to where Dean stood, framed his face with his hands and crashed their mouths together in a rough and brutally intimate kiss. Dean let out a surprised grunt and brought his hands up to Cas’ back, digging his fingers roughly into the soft material of his button-up shirt.
Cas moaned deep and low, drinking in the taste of Dean's mouth, grinding his hips forward to press his suddenly erect cock against Dean's thigh. A heady rush of arousal flushed through his entire body and left him feeling light-headed when Dean pressed his hardened dick against Cas just as insistently. Cas' hands came up then, fisting into the material of Dean's shirt, pulling him even closer.
But Cas suddenly found himself being pushed back from Dean's mouth and his body ached from the loss of the heated contact. A needy whimper spilled from his throat before he could choke it back and Dean groaned loudly at the sound as he undid the fly of Cas' jeans with a steady flick of his wrist. His green eyes, blown nearly to black, glinted with an undeniable hunger when he plunged his hand, dirty with engine oil, down the front of Cas' boxers, palming and squeezing his straining member. Cas jerked his hips forward, crying out at the exquisitely rough caress.
"Oh fuck, Cas," Dean panted, bringing his lips down to Cas' neck, sucking wet bites all along his flushed throat.
Cas threw his head back to give Dean more access, his hands coming up to tangle in the short dusky strands of Dean's hair, feeling electric bolts of desire shoot straight down to his cock, still being stroked in Dean's tight grip, with each and every single press of Dean's mouth against his pulse-point.
There was suddenly pressure at the back of Cas' knees when they hit the front bumper of the car behind him as Dean walked him back and Cas gasped. Dean's lips returned to Cas' with a hot, demanding greed, swallowing up the next ragged breath Cas tried dragging in. Momentarily stunned, Cas worked to give as good as he got, licking against the sensitive roof of Dean's mouth and moaning hoarsely when he felt Dean shudder against him.
He pulled back from Dean's swollen lips, panting and desperate, his nerve endings alight and screaming with desire. "D- Dean," he stammered, "I n- need. I - I want." All coherent thought had burned away from Cas' brain and he was having an increasingly harder time even forming a complete sentence.
But Dean seemed to innately know what Cas wanted, he always did.
Rough, calloused hands fell to Cas' hips and turned him abruptly, bending Cas over the car behind them, somehow pulling Cas’ pants and boxers down in the process. Cas sucked in a harsh breath and felt it lodge in his chest, filtering its way out of his throat in a strangled exhale when he heard Dean hit his knees behind him. Strong hands suddenly came up, kneading and squeezing Cas’ ass cheeks before spreading them apart. A blinding spark of understanding flashed in Cas mind a fraction of a second before Dean’s tongue, impossibly hot and wet, licked tentatively at his hole. It was the first time Dean had ever laid his mouth there and Cas’ heart clenched so hard in his chest he swore it stopped. He gripped at the dirty engine before him, seeking a handhold in the tangle of hoses and grimy metal as his back bowed tightly against the indescribable feel of Dean’s tongue spearing into his furled and quivering entrance.
Dean continued clenching his ass cheeks with his hands, pulling his tongue from Cas’ hole to bite at the tender flesh of Cas’ upper thighs. “God, Cas. Baby, you taste so good. I never knew,” Dean murmured reverently against his skin. “I never knew.”
Cas whined out a licentious moan, his whole body shuddering when Dean flattened out his tongue to lathe a long, slow stripe from his sac all the way up to the top of his ass. He could feel his poor untouched cock leak a copious amount of precome down the cold metal of the car’s grille and he sobbed out Dean’s name.
“Please,” he pleaded desperately, “Please, I need to feel you inside me.”
He felt the rumble of Dean’s breath and the rasp of his stubble across his skin as he pulled back. A warm dribble of saliva suddenly spread across Cas’ eager hole and a shiver wracked through him violently when Dean’s thumb pressed into him for a moment before withdrawing slowly. There was a rough rustling noise as Dean stood and shoved his own jeans down, and then came the sound of ripping foil as Dean opened a condom wrapper. Cas held his breath, his heart pounding so hard he felt like he’d pass out, when Dean’s cock, thick and heavy, finally finally pressed against his hole.
There was a slight burn as Dean pressed in, but he worked into Cas slowly, allowing him time to adjust. Cas quickly became impatient and pushed back on Dean’s dick when he had only slid in halfway. Dean growled roughly, his grease-slicked fingers coming down to grip at Cas’ bare hips for leverage, thrusting his hips forward and burying himself deep.
Twin moans echoed loudly through the open space of the garage as Dean quickly set a pounding rhythm. “Thanks for bringing dinner,” he rasped sincerely, “It was a really nice surprise.”
Cas grunted out a chuckle and then a whimper, watching with rapt fascination as his pristine accountant’s hands turned filthy against the engine block below him, pushing back hard against Dean’s next drive forward, “No one’s more surprised than me,” he panted. He had really only planned on bringing Dean dinner, but he’d take surprises like this as often as he could.
Cas could feel Dean stretch across his back, his thrusts becoming shallow and frantic, and he suddenly felt Dean’s hand wrap around his neglected dick where it was sliding against the front of the car. Cas nearly sobbed with relief as Dean’s stroking grip quickly brought him to the very cusp of release.
Dean’s voice was suddenly in his ear, low and urgent, when he asked, “You ready for this, Cas?”
Cas nodded vigorously, “Yes, Dean,” he answered brokenly, feeling his balls tighten up between his legs as Dean pumped his cock one last time.
And then he was coming, his release spilling over Dean’s fist as he cried out. He clenched around Dean’s dick involuntarily, his whole body trembling, and he felt Dean thrust forward with a rough finality, letting out a jagged breath along with a warming surge of come that filled the condom inside Cas with a hot and throbbing rush.
Cas immediately felt boneless and slumped down onto the engine below him. Dean’s heartbeat knocked heavily against Cas’ back as Dean flattened himself on top of him.
“Dean?” Cas rasped out.
“Yeah?” came Dean’s slurred reply.
“I can’t breathe.”
Dean swore and immediately straightened up from Cas. Cas winced when Dean’s softening cock slid out of him, but he was suddenly tugged down onto the floor and onto Dean’s lap. He chuckled breathlessly, curling against Dean’s chest, and Dean brought his arms up around him, drawing him closer.
“What’s so funny?” Dean asked, nuzzling his nose into Cas’ hair and breathing deep.
Cas nodded to the car beside them and the mess of cum coating the grille and bumper. “I think this one’s going to need more than just a tune up,” he said with a laugh.
Dean chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of Cas’ head. “You know I’m going to charge you for the time it’ll take to clean that up, right?” he asked.
Cas craned his head to the side to press an awkward kiss to the corner of Dean’s mouth. “Think maybe we can work out a deal?”
“I think we can figure something out,” Dean said coyly. He turned Cas in his arms and pressed a languid and lingering kiss to his lips.
***
From his office, Dean had a full view of the bay and his new favorite car, the dark blue muscle. He sipped his coffee and felt his head fall back from the warmth of the drink and the memories that car now held. When he was done restoring it, he might not be able to sell it after all. He cleaned it up a best he could last night but he could still see smudges and dried cum here and there, covert evidence of his and Cas’ late night tryst.
The boys were working on their assignments throughout the bay and would break for lunch soon. He set his mug down and headed back to his own station, rag tucked into his back pocket. He already had Baby but he may pass Blue, no Blue Devil, on to his own would-be devil.
He was stuck in the office most of the morning so he decided to work on the car through his lunch. The crew had had been gone for almost ten minutes when his phone rattled around on top of his toolbox. Dean stood up straight to stretch his back and wiped his hands on his coveralls before grabbing his phone.
[text Castiel] - I miss you.
Dean smiled and tapped out a reply but paused before hitting send. He heard the same soft cough from last night and slipped his phone into his back pocket. He gave his hands another good cleaning with his rag as he spoke.
“If you want me to bend you over this car again,” he called over his shoulder, lecherous grin in place, “you showed up at just the right time.” He turned to the sound, arms wide to welcome Cas into his space. But his arms and his heart dropped when faced with his new visitor.
“As I recall you did do most of the bending,” Jacob said, “didn’t you, Dean?” He stood near the doorway in almost the same spot Cas had occupied last night. His dark hair and fitted grey suit were perfect, of course, and he tucked his hands into the pockets of his slacks as he spoke, taking a step closer to Dean.
Dean took an involuntary step back and bumped into the grille of the car, sending it swaying back and then forward again. He swallowed hard, feeling the rush of adrenaline sweep into his system as his body prepared to defend itself.
“What are you doing here?” he growled the words at the man before him. He hadn’t seemed to age at all in the years since Dean had seen him last. Jacob took his time answering, choosing instead to meander across the open space, admiring the cars in their various stages of completion.
“I’m so proud of you,” he said, his corrosive voice like a vulture pecking at Dean’s hard work. “You really did accomplish your dream, didn’t you?” His white teeth, suddenly exposed in a sneering smile, ran a chill down Dean’s spine and he lifted his chin against his sudden embarrassment. He worked hard to piece himself and his life back together after Jacob left him and he was not about to let him undermine this labor of love.
”You are not welcome here,” Dean stated simply, taking a step forward now. Jacob tilted his head in amusement at the statement. Like a predator, he seemed to stalk Dean as he inched closer, his eyes an intense grey like a late winter sky. Dean always thought the color was fitting as Jacob’s heart seemed to be just as cold.
He stopped inches from Dean and let himself tilt forward just enough to force Dean to lean back or risking making contact. “I am welcome everywhere,” he corrected. “I heard that my best pupil has a new playmate. I wanted to swing by while I was on this side of the state to check on that rumor. Surely you’re not moving on, are you baby?” He made the endearment sound vulgar and sticky and Dean fought the urge to spit.
“I’m not yours anymore,” Dean replied. He would not bring Castiel into this tug of war and held on to that statement as he continued. “You stopping having rights to me the day I learned all about your lies. Get out.”
It was Dean’s turn to look fearsome as he pointed to the door. Against the pleading of his pounding heart, Dean took a step into Jacob’s space, his face contorted with hatred waiting to erupt. His hands clenched into fists, but he forced them to relax, opting to push Jacob away instead of punching him.
Jacob’s laugh echoed through the bay as he brought a hand to his chest in mock amazement. “I see my boy’s grown a pair! I’m impressed.” He rushed Dean, suddenly pulling his arms behind him and pressing him back against the car. Using his body to lean him backwards, Dean could feel Jacob’s arousal pressed against his hip and his midmorning coffee threatened to make an appearance. He tried to pull his hands free, straining his neck to move his face away from Jacob’s, when the wet heat of that tongue dragged a repugnant line from his collar to his ear. Finally, Dean had enough.
He wrenched his arms free of Jacob’s grasp and pushed him away again, this time following the stumbling figure away from the car. He took a swing and grunted his satisfaction when he landed his right fist into the left side of Jacob’s jaw and felt the smear of blood as his lip was split. When Jacob tumbled backwards, Dean grabbed him by his suit jacket and hauled him to the door, tossing him into the alley where he rolled and bumped into the dumpster.
“Get the FUCK OUT!” Dean screamed, rage bursting forth into wrath. He stepped over the threshold to attack again but stopped himself when he saw the woman and the car at the end of the alley. He brought her? He brought her with him while on this disgusting mission? She watched impassively for a moment before removing her sunglasses to reveal a black-eye.
Jacob was on his knees pulling himself up with the help of the dumpster when Dean grabbed him once more. He hauled him to his feet and shook him to ensure he was focused for his next words, his voice a guttural whisper.
“I am not some stupid and broken little boy. I am not your toy or your property. If I see you again, I will kill you.” He wasn’t afraid to make this threat or the consequences that may follow him because of it. He had pictures and police reports and witnesses that would support Dean’s need to protect himself.
He shoved Jacob down the alley and spit after him before returning to the shop and slamming the door behind him. He leaned against it for a few moments, letting the adrenaline seep away before sliding down to the floor. He ran shaking hands over his head and down his face only to find them wet with tears when he pulled them back.
And then it was his turn to scale the growing mountain of questions and insecurities that percolated in his mind. Who would share details of Dean’s personal life with a monster like Jacob? How was he keeping tabs on him? Was he stalking Castiel? Was his love safe even now after tossing Jacob out on his ass?
As he came down from his violent confrontation, his ears ached suddenly and the sound of rushing wind was overwhelming. Panic began to swell in his chest, but he forced himself to dial Castiel for help. He banged the back of his head against the door, using the pain as an anchor, choking on a gasping sob and waiting for Cas to answer.